The Journeyman for Zdrell

by David K Bennett

  In moments, the running man arrived at the castle and stopped twenty yards before the gate. He looked up at the faces looking down on him.

  “Is the master wizard Dorull in this castle?” the man called up with a strange accent.

  Before Dorull responded, Captain Herriman yelled down, “Who are you and what is your business here?”

  “I require that wizard Dorull surrender the line cutter in his possession or I will destroy him and everyone in this castle,” the robed man responded, looking directly at Dorull.

  Again, Captain Herriman yelled back, “We do not respond to threats. If you do not leave, my men will fill you with arrows.” He was about to say more when Dorull grabbed his arm and shook his head.

  Dorull looked down and shouted, “Who are you, and what makes you think I have a line cutter in this castle?” He also turned to Captain Herriman and whispered urgently, “Get your men armed and ready to fight. Do not delay.” The Captain looked ready to argue but the intensity of Dorull’s expression made him think better, and he hurried off to bring the men to full alert.

  The man below spoke again, “If you are the wizard, you can call me Coal, for all the good it will do you. I have ways of finding line cutters. Even if I didn’t, your reputation as a collector of ancient artifacts is well known. I can feel a line cutter is near. Bring it out to me and I may spare your life and the lives of those who dwell with you. If not, none of you will survive the day and I will still have the prize.”

  Eril looked at Dorull askance. He whispered, “How does he think he can do that? There are three trained wizards here and over a hundred soldiers. We turned away an army of over a thousand without casualties. Is he insane?”

  Dorull was watching the calmly waiting man closely. “If he is who I think he might be, we need to take his threat very seriously.”

  Eril shook his head in confusion.

  Dorull spoke down to the man below. “You have come from quite a long way, haven’t you?”

  The man snorted, “More than you can fathom, old man, and by means you have no imagination to consider. Yes, I see you have guessed it. I am charzen. I serve the ruler of this world, Lord Jelnick, even if you fools in Skryla do not know, he rules you even now.”

  “That’s just what I was afraid of,” Dorull whispered to Eril. “Get ready to fight!” he shouted to all the men on the wall.

  “So be it. I never would have left you alive in any case,” Coal said, backing several yards away from the castle, he drew a pair of medium-length curved blades.

  The Captain, without waiting for Dorull, ordered his archers on the wall to fire on the charzen. He made no attempt to take cover but cut the five arrows that flew towards him out of the air with sword slashes from his left hand that were so fast Eril didn’t see them so much as hear the arrows being splintered. The archers were so shocked by what happened that they didn’t immediately fire again.

  The charzen then backed up another few yards and ran directly at the castle wall. What happened next left Eril in shock. Coal leapt towards the castle wall when he was still at least twenty feet away from it. He hit the wall nearly fifteen feet above the ground and began to run straight up it. Though the castle walls were over one hundred feet tall, the charzen reached the top in less than three seconds. He cleared the top and immediately spun into two of the archers and cut the head off one and the arm off the other while knocking him over the outside wall.

  Eril was less than twenty feet away and stood between the charzen and the stairs leading down into the keep. Eril wasn’t carrying any weapon, and Dorull had his power ring. His master ring and line cutter were still in the concealing amulet around his neck. Thankfully, he was wearing both his shield and invisibility amulets. He invoked the shield just as the charzen charged him.

  Eril was thrown from the battlement towards the inner courtyard by the force of the blow that would likely have cut him in two if the shield hadn’t been in effect. Only his long practice in learning how to fly allowed him to not slam into the paving stones below. Even so, he landed heavily, still stunned from the intended killing blow, but was otherwise unhurt.

  The charzen did not seem to pay any attention to Eril’s fate but continued down into the inner keep, cutting through any soldiers he encountered. A group of three tried to come at him simultaneously, but he spun and dipped with such incredible speed that none of their blows landed, while his blades passed through flesh, bone, and armor as though they were smoke.

  While he was engaging the swordsmen below, three different archers loosed arrows that found their mark, only to bounce off the man’s bare torso as if it were steel. None of this slowed his progress and in less than three minutes of battle over twenty soldiers were wounded or dead.

  At this point, the soldiers pulled back when Master Dorull shouted for them to move and pointed one of the recently recharged wands at the charzen. A lightning bolt leapt the twenty feet from the wand to the charzen. Instead of incinerating the attacker, the bolt bounced off and impacted with an explosion into the adjacent wall.

  Coal grimaced, and then said, “That stung. You’ll pay for that.” He advanced on Dorull and did not see Zeldar who had another of the wands launch a fireball at him. The fireball impacted, but also seemed to do no more than cause him to stagger slightly. Dorull launched another lightning bolt, but this one seemed to have even less effect than the first, and Coal continued to advance on Dorull.

  Dorull shouted, “Eril! Don’t just stand there. Attack him!”

  Eril, who had been leaning against the wall, recovering from his near severing, shouted back, “What should I do? Those wands aren’t doing anything.”

  Coal paused to look at Eril as Dorull shouted, “Do what you did to Zeldar at the end of the battle. He may be immune to magic, but he isn’t immune to gravity.”

  Eril puzzled what he meant for a moment, and then realized what he needed to do. He focused his sight on the charzen and found it extremely hard to “get the feel” for him. It felt like the man was slippery to his mind’s touch. The charzen turned on Eril and began to race towards him just as he got a sufficient mental grasp on him.

  Coal was within ten feet of Eril when he suddenly flew directly upward. Even as he was lifted into the air by Eril’s zdrell, the charzen threw one of his swords directly at the young wizard. Again, the shield amulet proved its worth as the sword bounced off and nearly impaled a soldier to the left of Eril.

  Eril did not stop lifting Coal until he was over three hundred feet in the air. The charzen did not throw his second sword but did manage to pull and throw a dagger at Dorull. By this time Eril was feeling much more in control and was prepared for the dagger throw and diverted it well wide of the castle.

  “What should I do with him, Master?” Eril asked as everyone looked up at the now impotent charzen. Hanging in the air, Coal glared down at them silently.

  “Bring him down a bit lower so that we can talk to him. Just not low enough that he’s a threat.”

  Everyone looked on as Eril lowered Coal until he was just over one hundred feet above them.

  “Will you surrender, charzen, or will you fall to your death?” Dorull asked.

  “You will all die. The demons will feast on your souls. My master will remove your taint from the world,” the defiant charzen snarled.

  “I see. Well, I expected no less. How did you find me, charzen?” Dorull said, unperturbed.

  “The streets will run red with the blood of the sacrifices. Your cities will burn.”

  “Alright, Eril. I don’t think we’re going to get any more useful information out of him. I can’t see any way we could hold him prisoner, and we can’t possibly let him get away, with what he’s seen he’ll just come back with more like him, and they won’t be so obvious next time. You’re going to have to kill him.”

  “Kill him? How?” Eril said, more than a bit disturbed. “Why can’t we keep him prisoner?”

  “Didn’t you just see what he did here in a matter of a f
ew seconds? There’s not a place in this castle that he wouldn’t be able to break out of in short order, and I’ll not risk anyone else’s life for filth like him. He’s tried very hard to kill you three different times already. There’s no other choice, he has to die,” Dorull said, shaking his head.

  Eril looked around at the carnage the charzen had left but still felt uncomfortable killing him. He looked up at Coal. “Would you kill my mother if you had the chance?”

  The charzen spat at him, “I would violate her, rip her skin open and strangle you with her entrails as she died, if I were able.”

  “Yeah,” Eril said, disgust in his voice, “Well she’s already dead, so you’ll never get the chance, but I get the message.”

  Eril concentrated on lifting the charzen over four hundred feet above the valley floor, then stopped holding him up. Coal did not scream as he fell but spread his body to catch as much air as possible and then just before he hit the ground oriented his feet down and bent his knees with the impact.

  It was an amazing feat of control but still wasn’t enough. The sound of bones breaking could be heard from the castle wall where they stood to watch. Even so, Coal was not dead. He struggled to rise on shattered legs. Even when the legs proved useless, he began propelling himself with surprising speed by using his hands to drag his body back towards the path he had so recently come in on.

  “Don’t let him get away, Eril,” Dorull growled.

  Eril had been sickened by his attempt to kill the charzen, but he was angered to see that the fall had not only failed to kill him, but that he was trying to escape. He lifted the fleeing charzen high into the air again and this time deliberately accelerated him into the ground.

  “He,” Eril lifted and slammed him into the ground. “Won’t,” he lifted and slammed the body of the charzen again. “Get,” slam. “Away,” Eril slammed the mangled body one more time. This time there was no way that even the ridiculously tough charzen could have survived.

  “That’s enough, Eril,” Dorull said quietly. “Bring the body back in here. I’ll need to see if he had a line cutter sensing artifact with him, or if sensing them is just part of the transformation.”

  Eril concentrated and brought the mangled body floating over the castle walls and into the courtyard. As soon as the remains touched the ground, Eril rapidly walked away along the battlements to the farthest watchtower, which was currently unoccupied. He sank down to hunch on the ground, covered his head with his arms and silently sobbed, rocking back and forth.

  § § §

  Hours later, Biruell entered the watchtower quietly. Eril was now standing looking off into the distance, seeing nothing. Biruell was quiet, just waiting. Without turning to look, Eril said, “What is it, Biruell? I know you’re there.”

  “Master Dorull wanted me to ask if you are ready to come down, or if he should have dinner sent up to you here,” the boy answered quietly.

  “Master Dorull is a rotten old man to send you up here. He knows I can’t be mad at you,” Eril said, still not looking at the boy.

  “No one blames you, Eril.”

  “Blame, who said anything about blame? That thing, I won’t even call it a man, killed a lot of people, men I liked. I had to kill it. And I had to keep killing it.”

  Biruell said nothing, and Eril continued to stare out of the castle, but new tears were flowing down already dried tracks on his face. Finally, Eril turned and looked at Biruell, wiped the new tears and said, “Let’s go.” Biruell nodded and turned to walk with Eril back to the main keep.

  § § §

  When Eril came back with Biruell, he was surprised at how much the castle had been restored to look as though the battle hadn’t taken place. There were still dark stains on some of the cobbles, but all the blood, bodies, and debris from physical and magical mayhem had been removed.

  Dinner was a somber affair. They ate in the keep’s main dining hall, which was rarely used. The whole complement of the castle was there except those standing watch. The food was more varied than the plain fare that made up most of their meals. The cooks had prepared several different types of bread and soups, as well as meat, which was always in short supply in the castle. There were also multiple cakes and sweets, and of course, both beer and wine were in unusual abundance.

  Every effort had been made to make the dinner a celebration of survival, rather than a wake for the dead. But with nearly a quarter of the standing castle guard killed, there was more quiet drinking than celebrating.

  Nearly every person who passed by Eril quietly thanked him for saving them. It was clear everyone understood that without Eril they would all have died. Even so, Eril could see some guards looking his way who didn't look grateful at all.

  Eril sat near Biruell, Dorull, and Zeldar, but no one seemed in much of a mood to talk. At first, Eril thought he had no appetite, but hunger and the variety of food soon had him consuming more in a meal than he had in recent memory. He considered drowning his misery in available drink, but habit and one look from Dorull kept him to only the watered ale that was his normal fare.

  As he ate, Eril tried to judge how Dorull and Zeldar were feeling. Both looked grim. He supposed he looked the same way.

  After the meal, Dorull motioned for Zeldar and Eril to follow him. “We have much to discuss.”

  When the three of them were seated in Dorull’s study, Dorull spoke, “First, before I say anything else, Eril, everyone in this castle owes you a debt. I’m not sure anyone would have been left alive if you hadn’t killed the charzen.”

  Eril heard the words and felt gratified by them, but he knew there was more coming. “In spite of this, Eril, a lot of good men died today because you were slow to react.”

  Anger and shame both flared simultaneously in Eril. These were the emotions that had been warring within him the entire time since the attack. Tears once again began to track silently down his cheeks as he tried to contain the sobs that threatened to well up.

  “I know, Master,” Eril said, choking back a sob. “But it happened so fast. I’ve never seen anything move like that, and then he struck me, and I only barely managed to not hit the ground when I fell.” Eril’s chest heaved. Trembling, he continued, “And he was killing so many of the guard so fast. Then you and Zeldar came out with wands. I thought I just had to stay out of the way. But the wands didn’t work. The magic just bounced right off him, and the arrows too. What was that thing?” Eril wailed.

  Dorull looked grave. “That was a charzen. He was once a man, but Lord Jelnick and demons did something to him. I don’t know what the process entails, except that it involves a lot of pain, and that after the process the man is changed into something different. Charzen are, as you saw, incredibly fast, incredibly strong and have skin that is tougher than armor and proof against most types of magic. That’s why I went straight for that lightning bolt. Magic missiles or even one of Zeldar’s orbs would have done even less.”

  Zeldar said, “You knew of these things? I’ve never heard of them.”

  “Not surprising,” Dorull grimaced, “you’re not old enough. I’ve never seen one before, but the old masters in my youth would talk of them. They were specifically created to hunt for line cutters and other high zdrell artifacts. They are men who, after their change, can no longer use magic, but they don’t need it. They hunt magic and wizards.

  “In Grimor they act as governors of the various provinces. They live two to three hundred years and there are never more than ten or twelve of them, as I understand. This may be because there aren’t that many men willing to be nearly tortured to death to be able to have the power. But I think Jelnick doesn’t like paying whatever he does to get the demons to transform a man. I don’t know.

  “In any case, if there is one here in Skryla looking for line cutters, you can be sure there will be more. It may take a while for them to discover that this one is dead, but I would not think we have more than a few weeks at most before another shows.” Dorull sat lost in thought, then fo
cused back on Eril.

  “You realize,” Dorull said, looking steadily at Eril, “that everyone who is alive today is so because of you, and that everyone who is dead, is so also because of you.”

  Eril, who had finally begun to get out of his emotional turmoil, again felt massively torn. “But what could I have done differently?”

  Immediately, Eril saw that both men looked outraged. “You could have grabbed him and thrown him in air right as he came up that wall,” Zeldar said, angrily. “You knew he was a threat.”

  “I . . . I . . . just didn’t think of it,” Eril stammered.

  “That’s right, boy,” Dorull said, emphasizing the word. “You didn’t think. This is the second time I’ve seen you put into action, and both times you had to be poked in the arse to get you started. This time it very nearly got you killed, and it did cost the lives of a lot of good men.”

  Before Eril could respond, Zeldar said, “I can see why you don’t want people to see him as a master. He’s still not ready for the heat of battle.”

  This angered Eril, Zeldar didn’t have the right to say that. “Hey,” he nearly yelled at Zeldar. “I didn’t see you jumping into action at the beginning. You’ve got nothing to be proud of.”

  “You’re right, Eril, I didn’t jump in there. I was doing what Master Dorull told me to do and running for one of the wands. He stopped me from throwing a missile, which is the only offensive spell I have that I can throw on short notice.”

  He glared right back at Eril, “But I’m not you, am I? I don’t have the kind of power you have. If I did, I guarantee that thing would never have had a chance to get near any of those men, let alone kill them.”

  “Cease!” Dorull thundered right before Eril could retort. He glared first at Zeldar and then turned his gaze on Eril. “Eril, I will admit that much of the anger both Zeldar and I are feeling is because we both know that your actions, though tardy, were all that saved us. And both of us are not good at being rescued, and I think,” he glared at Zeldar, “we are both more than a bit upset because we are not used to being so powerless, and I’ll also admit we’re both a bit jealous of the power you wield. I think we both feel we would be better at it than you if we had your gifts, which we don’t.”